Midnight
by Scarlett Masquerade
Summary: Midnight follows Nellie's story from pre-Johanna era to the story we all know. Telling her fantasies, her reality, and her dreams of one day being able to call the only man she loves her own. Rating upped for rape violence and sexuality.
1. Chapter 1

**Midnight**

His hands were zigzagging down the laces of her corset, pulling it away, stroking her bare skin. She surrendered to the roughness of them with a sigh, pressing herself closer and wiggling out of her bloomers. They rolled over and knocked against a wall, eliciting a round of giggles.

Nellie wrapped her legs around his to pull them even closer. She moved her lips against his. They danced together in a perfectly synchronized duet.

The night slipped away and pink dawn light slanted across the bed. He was sleeping softly, but Nellie watched the sun creep behind London's everpresent curtain of clouds. A slow, silent tear stroked her cheek and she turned to look at her lover.

Funny, she could only fool herself that Albert was someone else in the midnight dark.

_**Hey everyone, I'm back again. And I have a website! Two, actually, one for blogging and one for my writing. Blog: pincurl-cabaret dot webs dot com Poetry: raggedblackbutterfly dot webs dot com. ^.^**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Midnight**

Chapter 2

The sun was level with Nellie's window, lancing her eyes with pink light until they were forced shut. With a low grumble so not to wake Albert, she slipped out of bed and pulled on her blue, flour-stained workaday dress and shambled out to the kitchen.

Swiping yesterday's dust and flour off of the counter in one stroke with a dirty cloth, Nellie plopped a hunk of questionable meat onto the wood surface and whacked into it with a butcher knife and a vengeance. The shop was completely silent, no sound from the apartment above either except a groaning of bedsprings as someone turned over.

Nellie abruptly stopped abusing the meat as the picture of the bed upstairs and the people in it wedged its way inside her mind. She grabbed the edges of the counter top, squeezing her eyes shut against tears.

"Aah," she gasped suddenly. A hot pain sliced through her hand and blood leaked over the meat. She had still been holding the butcher knife. Mentally scolding herself for being so stupid, she dropped to her knees and pulled the bucket of water out from under the counter. She rinsed her hand and bound it with a dishcloth.

A sudden noise startled her half to death, the ensuing jerk toppling the bucket and soaking her skirts.

"Oh bugger!" she cursed loudly, trying to sop up the mess. Someone knelt down beside her, rag in hand, and swiped it over the floorboards. Nellie glanced up and blushed furiously. Her attacker had been none other than Benjamin Barker.

"Thanks for scarin' me 'alf to death!" she said indignantly to cover her embarrassment. Soft footsteps pattered down the stairs and a slight blond woman joined the cleaning party.

"Oh Nell," Lucy gasped (she never quite figured out how much Nellie hated that name) "what on earth did'ja do to yer 'and?"

"Cut it." Nellie stated the obvious flatly, all the while thinking how stupid young Lucy Barker was and wondering how she could have ever gotten such a wonderful man.

The mess cleaned, everybody stood and tossed their rags into various places. Benjamin snaked an arm around Lucy's hourglass waist and kissed her hair. Nellie busied herself with the meat hurriedly, letting her auburn corkscrew curls hide her face.

"We 'ave some good news," said Lucy. Nellie could hear the sunbeams in her voice.

"Wonderful news," Benjamin added.

"D'you wanta tell 'er?" Lucy asked. Nellie peeped through her ringlets and was almost blinded by the love that surrounded the two. She wrinkled her nose unhappily.

"We're going to 'ave a baby!" Benjamin announced, laughing joyously.

Nellie froze for an instant, then the floor rushed up to her as she fainted dead away.


	3. Chapter 3

**Midnight**

Chapter 3

Nellie woke to a shrill, birdlike voice panicking and strong, roughened hands under her arms, pulling her off the ground. Though the paralyzing blackness was gone, everything was kind of fuzzy and colors seemed to bleed into one, so she stayed limp and the man carried her somplace and laid her on something soft.

What was she supposed to be doing now? She couldn't remember, but it was vaguely important... Oh yes. The pie shop. She struggled to form syllables with her lips, but they were dull and heavy.

"Is she awake?" twittered the bird voice, and a soft hand slipped across Nellie's forehead. She brought up her own hand to push it away, but it seemed to have balloons attached to it and went drifting off in another direction and smacked the headboard.

Someone- Benjamin?- took her hand and placed it gently back on the bed. She smiled sleepily and mumbled something- even Nellie herself didn't know what she was trying to say.

"All right, m'dear?" Albert asked. She realized it was him who had her hand and she frowned, a gentle winkle forming between her eyebrows.

"Mmm," she mumbled noncommittally. The room was sliding into focus, and she concerntrated on the striped wall rather than any of the faces around her.

There was another something important, besides the pie shop. Something bad, but important. Why was it bad? What was it?

"What... did you tell me?" Nellie sat up slowly and the room swung dizzily, but she stayed upright.

"I didn't tell you anythin', sweet'eart," Albert said confusedly.

"No, not you. 'im. Benjamin. You told me... somethin'..."

"Oh yes!" Lucy all but squealed. "I forgot, Albert 'asn't 'eard the news. I'm pregnant!" Albert hugged Lucy, laughing happily. Nellie winced as the news hit her afresh.

"Oh yeah," she whispered.

_**Filler, short, yes, I know. Leave me alone. I'm not sure what to do with this now, so unless some reviewer's bright idea (hint, hint) inspires me, I think I'll put this back into a oneshot.**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Midnight**

Chapter 4

Nellie quietly slipped out of the bedroom while Albert and Ben and Lucy were hugging and jumping up and down. Going back to her meat, she could barely make her heavy hands lift the knife, much less bring it through the meat. She realized dimly that her blood was still all over the meat and the knife, but she didn't care. _Maybe it'll add an interesting flavor, _she thought with a grim smile.

The door jingled and a young sailor boy walked in and barreled up to the counter.

"Can I get a pie and a tot of gin please, fast, the _Dauntless_ is about to cast off," he said in one breath, fumbling with his purse. Nellie had just turned to get one of the leftover pies from yesterday when Benjamin came into the room.

"You. Away," he ordered the boy, deaf to his protests. "You, with me," he said to Nellie. She followed him blindly.

"Nellie." His voice was gentle. "What's wrong. Did hearing about Lucy upset you?" He paused. Then, in a whisper, "Is it because you can't have children?"

To her own great surprise, Nellie burst into tears and buried her head in Benjamin's chest. His arms slid hesitantly around her shaking body, then came up to stroke her hair.

"No, no," she sobbed. "I c-c-can have children... It's j-just..." She gave herself up to the sobs for a moment before continuing in an almost unintelligible voice, "mine d-d-died."

_Nellie was seven months pregnant, too big to go anywhere or do anything, and she was slowly going stir-crazy. She sobbed one minute and laughed the next. Albert stayed by her side through the whole thing, helplessly enduring her pregnant-woman weirdness. _

_One day, Nellie was suddenly struck by an immense craving for walnuts. _

_"Albert, can you go to the market and get me some walnuts? I really need some walnuts. Pleas get me some walnuts?"_

_"I don't want to leave you alone..."_

_"But I need walnuts!" _

_Albert opened his mouth to say something, but Nellie cut him off, tears choking her angry voice._

_"All I want is some bloody walnuts! Why won't you get me any walnuts!? I'm having a bloody baby for you and all you have to do is get me some walnuts to make me happy and YOU WON'T EVEN DO THAT!" By this time, she was beating her pillow with her fist and sobbing desperate, gut-wrenching sobs. Albert backed away slowly, hands up._

_"I'm gonna go get some walnuts," he said, then fled the room. _

_Nellie's temper tantrum ceased instantly and a lazy smile spread across her face. It disappeared when she realized that she rather had to pee. Heaving her bulk off the bed with a few mumbled curses, Nellie waddled over to the chamber pot in the corner._

_A silk chemise was on the floor. Nellie couldn't see anything past her belly. Her bare foot came down on the chemise and it slipped away, taking her foot with it. With a cry, Nellie went down. A screaming pain shot through her lower back and something inside her let go and gave with a muffled ripping noise. Blood started to pour from between her legs and she could feel the baby's thrashing through the wall of her stomach._

_Then the thrashing stopped._

_Albert found her crumpled on the floor in a pool of blood, crying with her head resting on the bump in her belly._

Benjamin held her for another few moments, whispering "I'm sorry," into her hair, but soon Nellie pulled away.

"It's all right. I'm happy for you. Just tell Lucy... be careful."

She fled to the shop, wiping tears away and feeling vaguely guilty for lying. She really had lost a baby, but that wasn't wasn't even a fourth of the reason why she was upset.

_**Thanks so much to Depp's-Still-Doll for inspiring an entire plotline with your private message (I'll message the plotline to you if you want it) and to LazyCatfish27 for letting me bounce ideas off you. And one more random thing: I went to a gift exchange last nught and I got a pregnancy pillow! I'm going to scare all my friends with it, and wear it to school on April Fool's Day. Heh heh heh. **_


	5. Chapter 5

**Midnight**

Chapter 5

_Eight Months, Three Weeks Later_

Nellie worked lethargically down in the bakehouse, trying not to let a stray tear slip onto a pie and listening to Lucy scream. Then there was a baby's sob and a yell of joy. Nellie heaved the oven open and shoved a tray of pies into the blistering heat.

She sank slowly to the dirty concrete and let the full implications of this baby wash over her. As Lucy had gotten bigger, Nellie found that more and more of what was troubling her was her own lost child, and not that Lucy and Benjamin were together in the most intimate way. She missed feeling the little movements as her baby did gymnastics, she missed the little heartbeat going _bomp, bomp, bomp _at the bottom of her womb.

The door to the bakehouse swung slowly open and Albert walked over to where Nellie sat with her knees drawn up to her chest. His arm slid around her.

"It's a girl," he said, his voice wobbly. "They've named her Johanna..."

Nellie turned and cried into his shoulder and let him kiss her hair. Slowly her tears died away and they were kissing more deeply. Albert slid Nellie's bodice down and she pulled away his vest.

Suddenly another set of footsteps pounded excitedly down the stairs, startling Nellie and Albert apart. He pulled his vest back on crookedly and Nellie crawled behind the oven to wiggle her bodice back onto her shoulders.

"Benjamin!" she said breathlessly, scrambling back out. Albert tried to smooth his sheepish expression into a brightly neutral one without much success.

"Um." Benjamin was clearly uncomfortable. "Would you, um, like to see her?"

"'Course! Uh, yes, let's go, Albert." All three faces were bright red as they trudged up to the barber's apartment.

The Lovetts edged cautiously into Lucy's room. Her face was glowing, though sweaty and tired, and she held a tiny bundle of pink blankets in her arms. Nellie perched on the edge of the bed, arms half extended.

"May I...?" she asked hesitantly. Lucy grinned so hard the edges of her smile bled into her ears and handed baby Johanna over.

The child's blue eyes blinked sleepily up at Nellie and a soft dusting of yellow hair covered her head. She opened delicate, rose-colored lips that played strangely off the purplish, just-born hue of her skin and went for Nellie's breast.

"I don't have any, darling," she whispered brokenly. Although her eyes burned, she seemed to be all cried out. Gently, her lips brushed the baby's forehead, then she gave her back to Lucy.

Benjamin gave her a soft look of understanding as she retreated to the corner of the room, arms hugging herself around the waist.

- - -

Midnight again. Loving she didn't want. Not from Albert. But she surrendered to it anyway. It was easier. And she whispered words of love into his ear, again pretending he was someone else.

_**I just realized how like the whole Eponine-Cosette-Marius saga this whole thing is. And that I need to make Nellie stop crying. She cries too much.**_


	6. Chapter 6

**Midnight**

Chapter 6

_Two Months Later_

"We're going to St. Dunstan's, Nellie. Anything you need?" Nellie smiled and traced a hand over the swelling between her hip bones.

"No, love, I think I've got everything I need." _Well, most everything,_ she thought, still wishing the baby was Ben's and not Albert's. But it couldn't be helped.

"All right. See you soon!" Lucy looped her arm through Benjamin's, and they each touched a hand to Nellie's stomach.

"Bye, Eva," they crooned. Nellie smiled again at her baby's name. _Evangeline. _It meant good news.

Albert swept out of his room, high in his altitudes with gin. Nellie was not sure what he'd been drinking for, only that he drank a whole lot more since Eva had been conceived.

"Heyyyy, Nell..." he said, his voice garbled. She returned the greeting warily. He grabbed her roughly around the waist and pulled her from behind the counter.

"Albert, be careful. Eva..."

"How d'ya know the thing's a girl anyway?"

"I just know. Albert, _please _be careful..."

"No, Nell. I don't hafta take orders... from a girl..." He pressed against her stomach hard, making the baby squirm for room.

"Albert, stop!" He pressed harder, but she ripped away from him, stumbled over a chair, and fell into the window. The pane that her head hit broke with a gentle tinkle.

Albert lurched over with a chair clutched in one hand.

"Albert." Nellie got up with difficulty and went over to him. He swung the chair wildly and she dodged out of the way. She had half a mind to yell for help, but she didn't want the shame. She could only hope that the Barkers would be back soon.

Albert dropped the chair and scooped Nellie up, bridal style. She cried out in fear as her stumbled for the stairs to their apartment, almost dropping her a few times in the process.

He had almost made it up the stairs when the gin got the best of him. The arms slipped out from under Nellie and she was falling, falling down the stairs, trying to curl up so the baby would be hurt, but she knew it was hopeless.

"Eva!" she screamed, settling in a shape like a coiled fist at the bottom of the stairs. She felt for the little heart, placing her hand at the curve near her pelvis, but it was still.

Albert was sitting at the top of the stairs, confused. Nellie was coming up the stairs with murder in her eyes and her rolling pin clutched in her hand. The wood made contact with his head, her strong, wiry arms driving in with paralyzing force. Once, twice, three times. Black blood soaked up the world around him...

Albert died without making a sound.

Nellie stood over him, breathing hard, spattered in blood. A tinkling bell sounded behind her and a voice wild with fear.

"Nellie, oh God Nellie, they've arrested him, they've arrested my Ben-" Lucy stopped abruptly. Nellie turned slowly to look at her.

"He killed my baby," she said faintly, sitting heavily on the top step. "He killed Eva. What... what else could I have done? He killed her. He... _he killed my baby."_ Not a word of what Lucy had just said made it through Nellie's head. All she could see was her baby's heartbeat gone and the blood of her husband sinking into her pores. She could see herself in a few months, having to give birth to Eva's body. How could she do that? How could she live through it?

Lucy was still standing there, blue eyes swallowing her face with their roundness. Something fled form those eyes as Nellie stared, something essential.

That was when she first realized just how weak Lucy was.

_**Ooh, ominousness! Whatever will happen next?? A free shot at my Albert dartboard for anyone who guesses right!**_


	7. Chapter 7

**Midnight**

Chapter 7

Nellie ran up the stairs and waited for the tears that were surely just around the corner, but nothing came. Not even a burning of the eyes. She examined her mind, wondering why she didn't feel more terrible. Her baby, her dear Evangeline, her good news, was dead. She would have to give birth to a dead baby in seven months. Her husband was dead by her own hand. She was still gripping the bloody rolling pin. The blood was going to sink into her skin permanently. But she couldn't find it in herself to cry.

Lucy's words slowly crept past the barrier of Nellie's shock. Benjamin was gone. Arrested. Possibly on trial for his life. What if he died, too?

That got through to her. She had to find out more about this. If Benjamin died, Nellie would have nothing left at all except the corpse of a child.

She ran back downstairs and gripped Lucy by the upper arms.

"Where is Benjamin now? Why did they arrest him? What happened, Lucy?"

Lucy took a deep, shuddering breath and stared blankly at the blood rubbing off on her arms.

"They said he... he did something... and then they took him..." Nellie realized that Johanna was crying, forgotten in Lucy's arms, and she picked her up.

"Shh, shh, honey. It's..." She trailed off. She couldn't tell Johanna that it was all right. Nothing was right.

Lucy was gone. She had slipped quietly upstairs after Nellie had taken Johanna.

Nellie realized slowly that she was probably going to end up a mother after all.


	8. Chapter 8

**Midnight**

Chapter 8

"Lucy, love, here's your lunch." Nellie opened the door to find Lucy curled up in a corner, crying quietly. Nellie dropped the lunch tray on a table and rushed over to pull Lucy up.

"Darling, what's the matter?" Lucy wailed and pointed at the window like a frightened child. Nellie looked down to see Judge Turpin and his beadle standing across the street. Turpin held a bunch of yellow tulips up to the huge window.

Nellie growled and settled Lucy at the table.

"Eat your lunch, dear."

Stalking down the outside steps, Nellie walked straight up to the two individuals across the street and glared ferociously at them.

"Go away, both of you. You really think a bunch of bloody flowers are gonna make up for stealing her husband? Fat chance. Poor girl's already lost her marbles. I doubt she'd be much fun n the bed, anyway."

Turpin just smiled at her.

"Lovely to see you, Nell darling," he said, then swooped away like a big ugly crow. Nellie shuddered, suddenly feeling that she'd made things worse.

She had.

As the faint glow faded from the sky at dusk, she heard someone coming up the stairs. Lucy was sleeping, and Nellie was nursing Johanna from a bottle. Hurrying to put the baby in her crib, she opened the door a crack.

"Closed," she said shortly, and made to shut the door. But a long, highly recognizable gold cane slipped through and held it open. The Beadle pushed Nellie away from the door roughly and went straight to where Lucy was sleeping, head on her crossed arms at the table.

"Miss Lucy," he whispered, shaking her shoulder. Nellie got up and tried to grab his arm.

"Get away from her!" The cane came down across her back at the same time that the Beadle kicked her legs out from under her, making her crumple to the floor. By the time she had regained her bearing and gotten up, the Beadle had a disoriented, confused Lucy by the arm and was half-helping, half-dragging her down the stairs.

"Bugger."


	9. Chapter 9

**Midnight**

Chapter 9

Nellie spent the rest of the night downstairs in the pie shop, pacing restlessly with Johanna alternately in her arms and in the crib she had dragged down from Lucy's room.

_It's been an hour. She's all right._

_It's been two hours. She'll be home soon. She's all right..._

_It's been three hours. She'll be home soon..._

_It's been four hours._

_Five._

_Six..._

Finally, at the break of dawn, a carriage pulled up outside Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pie Emporium. A dark, lumpy shape climbed out. The shape separated, the taller one dropping the other one onto the front step with a sighing of fabric. The tall shadow disappeared back into the carriage as it lumbered away.

Dropping Johanna into her crib, Nellie rushed outside. Lucy's shredded skirts were covered in blood and alcohol, her eyes rolled up into her head, her hair in horrific disarray. As Nellie dragged her inside, a plethora of bruises and scrapes became apparent against her deathly white skin.

"Oh my God," Nellie murmured as she pulled the destroyed dress away from Lucy's tiny frame. Both her corset and bloomers were missing. Blood leaked from between her legs as well as from multiple tiny cuts and small bite marks.

Nellie hefted Lucy into her arms and struggled to the downstairs parlor, knowing she would never be able to carry her up the stairs. She laid the unconscious woman on the couch, but drifted back out as Johanna began to wail.

"Hush..." she crooned.

There was a tinkling of breaking glass from the parlor, and a heavy thump against the floor.


	10. Chapter 10

**_This is fast getting explicit, so please don't read if you are under, say, 13. If you ignore this warning, don't blame me for corrupting your innocent preteen mind._**

**Midnight**

Chapter 10

Nellie swore softly under her breath, a long, unbroken stream of curses. She knew what had happened. Frankly, she couldn't blame the poor silly nit.

But, darn her for leaving Johanna!

And darn her for offing herself in Nellie's parlor. What the heck was she supposed to do about the body, for heaven's sake?

Moments later, Nellie found herself puffing down the stairs to the bakehouse, one of Lucy's wrists gripped in each hand.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she gasped through her teeth, and heaved the body into the blazing oven.

A nasty smell drifted through the bakehouse, wrinkling Nellie's nose. Waving the air in front of her face, she heaved the furnace door shut and staggered back up the stairs.

"C'mon, Johanna," she said, humming a lullaby as she laid the baby in her crib. Poor girl looked exactly like her mother. Nellie hoped she didn't turn out as stupid.

_Knock knock._

"I'm closed," Nellie hollered.

A smooth-as-silk voice flowed through the glass and goosebumps broke out all over Nellie's skin.

"I'm not here for food. It's Judge Turpin. Let me in, please."

Nellie tossed the blanket over Johanna's face in a futile attempt to hide her and opened the door.

"Oh, I see you've brought the beetle with you." She emphasized the "t" in beetle. The Beadle just smirked at her and brushed past, noting the dust on the counters and the bugs scurrying in and out of pies at will.

"Lovely."

"Nellie, I'm afraid this isn't a social visit," Turpin said, smiling. "May I speak to Lucy?" He watched with delight as Nellie stiffened.

"She's... not here," she said tightly.

"I see. Any idea where she might be?"

"She never came back... after beetle over there took her off someplace."

Turpin's smirk was nothing short of delighted.

"Well then. I'll just take the child now." He moved past Nellie, skimming a hand over the silk of her dress as he passed. She grabbed at his sleeve.

"The child?" she asked. Turpin nodded and shook free of Nellie's hand.

"Yes. What was her name..."

"Johanna."

"That's it. Well, I'll be taking her now." He scooped the sleeping child out of her cradle.

"No!" Nellie flew at him, trying to grab Johanna without waking her. He pushed her away easily. She kicked him in the shin and the Beadle grabbed her by the upper arms.

"Well, if you'd like to be wet nurse..." Turpin slipped a hand softly just beneath Nellie's breast, sighing. The Beadle's fingers dug into her arms as she fought to get away; she felt bruises starting to form where they pressed.

Turpin leaned forward, his hot, sticky breath crawling up into her nose, and kissed her neck. His lips parted and he began to suck until her drew blood.

Nellie screamed and struggled, tears dripping off the end of her nose, as he slid the hand on her chest slowly upward and squeezed.

"Sir," the Beadle whispered, releasing Nellie and pointing out the window. A constable was progressing slowly down the street.

Turpin stepped away and bowed.

"A pleasure seeing you today, my dear Nellie."

And the two departed with little more ceremony than they had arrived.


	11. Chapter 11

**Midnight**

Chapter 11

Nellie drifted through her life like it was a shadow show for months. Her cooking and housekeeping deteriorated at a rapid rate until the shop was deserted but for the sad, shadowy phantom of Nellie.

She had her stillborn baby alone, in an almost silent labor. The child was beautiful, even dead. She wrapped it in Johanna's best silk receiving blanket and threw it in the oven.

She was pale and thin, bruiselike circles carved seemingly permanently beneath her empty eyes. Her cheekbones, collarbone, and ribs stood out prominently behind a thin curtain of alabaster skin. She bruised easily and was given to long nights of nothing but tears.

Then, one day, a customer ambled into her shop.

Nellie assumed he had come by accident, and didn't come out from her dark corner. But he went up to the counter, and with some difficulty, rang the old rusted bell.

"Hello, sir, how are you today? What do you need?" she asked in a voice as rusty as the bell, slipping behind the counter. He seemed very surprised at her appearance, which was no surprise to Nellie. She knew she looked like death.

"I'd just like some gin, if you wouldn't mind, ma'am." His voice had a soft, sweet Irish and Cockney inflection, and the formality of him drew Nellie's attention. She looked at him more closely.

He was a thin slip of a man, but clearly displayed lean, whiplike muscles across his shoulders and down his arms. He was work-tanned, with the rough hands and rough clothes of a laborer, but his manner was anything but. Silken, but not dangerous like Turpin. More like suede.

She leaned down and poured him a glass of gin, her eyes following his unkempt dark hair as it frizzed wildly around his face. He had warm russet eyes.

Acting on impulse, she poured herself a glass of gin and went to sit down across from him. He acknowledged her by raising his glass, but did not speak.

"Are you traveling?" Nellie asked at length. Something about her question made the man laugh.

"Always." Seeing that Nellie didn't get it, he clarified: "I'm part of a gypsy caravan passing through."

Now _this_ was a bit of information that would have, in the old days, intrigued Nellie and she would have turned unbearably nosy. As it was, she just nodded and searched for her smile. She couldn't find it.

"So what's your name, miss?" He finished the last of his gin and pushed the glass away, leaning eagerly across the table. Nellie might have giggled, had this been the old days.

"Mrs.-Miss- I'm Nellie Lovett."

"Marko, Madame Lovett."

Nellie gave up trying to be dignified and slid her tiny self right around the booth so that she was placed right next to Marko. He smiled and leaned nearer to her, already in love with those fine wine-colored lips.

His kiss was like nothing she'd ever experienced before. It was not hard and pressing, like Turpin's, or fumbling and boyish, like Albert's. It was soft and lingering and full of longing; it nearly made her swoon.

It was all she had ever imagined Benjamin's to be.

With this thought, she pushed herself closer to Marko, determined to drown out any errant memory. He submitted to her easily, eagerly, and their arms twined tightly around each other. Without removing his lips, Marko scooped Nellie up bridal-style and twirled around.

"Where's your room?" he whispered into her parted lips. With a loose, floppy hand, she pointed to the door at the top of the stairs. Marko carried her up, laid her down in bad, and undid the ribbon holding her skirt on. She let him, eagerly wriggling out of her bloomers.

That night, there were no tears.


	12. Chapter 12

**Midnight**

Chapter 12

When Nellie woke up, content, almost happy, she reached a hand over to the place where Marko had fallen asleep. There was nothing, not even a warm place on the sheets.

She sat up quickly, whispering "no, no" to herself. _Maybe he got hungry,_ she thought desperately. She searched the parlor, the kitchen, the bakehouse. She even glanced once quickly into the apartment above. But she knew before she started that he was already gone.

She sat down heavily in the same booth that they had kissed in just hours ago and didn't cry. Instead, she stared stonily off into the distance and vowed to herself that she would never love a man ever again.


	13. Chapter 13

**Midnight**

Chapter 13 (dun dun duhhhhhhhh...)  


Nellie no longer cried at night. She didn't sleep either. Sometimes she paced, her footsteps beating out a metronome across the floorboards. Sometimes she walked through London, half hoping she would be mugged and murdered by one of the denizens lurking in the alleys. No luck: something in her blank and hardened eyes kept them away. The prostitutes gave her plenty of attention, however; they recognized that look as their own and tried to recruit her. But Nellie's vow against men didn't allow for that, no matter the monetary incentive.

She started cooking and cleaning again- not well, but the effort was there. Her pies were still widely known as the worst in London. Occasionally a customer from out of town would wander in, and then Nellie would take pleasure in watching his shock as a bug climbed from his food, or if he dared to taste it, the look of revulsion and the inevitable vomit.

Years passed without Nellie even noticing. She vaguely knew that her knees pained her more often now, but she couldn't have told when this first happened. She knew that the range of men who leered after her was slowly moving up the age pyramid, but she couldn't tell you how far. She didn't even know how old she herself was.

The arrival of Mrs. Mooney down the street was a slight distraction, and Nellie enjoyed competing with the old vulture. Unfortunately, when Mrs. Mooney discovered that cats made just as good meat as any, Nellie was beat. And so that distraction passed and she was just as lifeless as ever.

Until one day fifteen years from the time that Nellie's life had, for all intents and purposes, ended. When a new customer entered her shop.


	14. Chapter 14

**Midnight**

Chapter 14

He was so different. Paler, or maybe it was just the contrast of his wild, dark hair. A streak sliced through it like white fire that hadn't been there before. His eyes were murky, guarded, and haunted, darting around her shop with a mixture of apprehension and intense longing. His cheekbones stood out almost as far as hers, the circles under his eyes almost as deep.

Nellie realized with a start that he looked surprisingly like her.

But there was no doubt in her mind as she began to babble mindlessly to him, about pies and bugs and Mrs. Mooney's cats. Benjamin Barker had returned to her.

But no, did she really think he was thinking of her? He didn't even seem to recognize her as she slid a plate across the table towards him. He was undoubtedly thinking only of Lucy, the silly twit, and his Johanna.

She noted with a detached sense of amusement that he spat out the bite of pie.

Nellie finally managed to gain some control over her mouth and guided Benjamin to the parlor and the promise of gin. He sat down heavily and stared into the fire. A pang of sadness shot through Nellie. How had he not yet recognized her?

"You have a room above your shop. If times are so hard, why don't you rent it out?" A leading question if she ever heard one. She decided to take the bait.

"Well you see, sir, something happened up there, near fifteen years ago. Something not- not very nice."

She started into the story of Lucy and Johanna.

"There was a barber and his wife, who lived here years ago. A barber and his wife..." she trailed off, then almost whispered: "And he was beautiful.

"A proper artist with a knife, but he was transported for life... and he was beautiful.

"He had this wife, see. Pretty little thing, but a silly little nit, had her chance for the moon on a string. Poor thing. There were these two, one of them a judge, the other his beadle, who wanted her like mad. Every day they'd come up to the window, nudging, wheedling. She never budged from her needle, poor thing.

"Well, then Beadle calls on her all polite, telling her the judge has repented. Drags her off to his house, but they were having this ball all in masks. There's no one she knows there, poor dear, so she wanders and drinks, calling for Judge Turpin all the while...

"Oh, but he was there all right, only not so contrite!

"She wasn't no match for such craft, you see, and everyone thought it so droll..." Noticing how tight the muscles in Benjamin's face were, Nellie edited her story a bit.

"They figured she had to be daft, you see, so all of them stood there and laughed... poor soul. Poor thing..."

With a movement so fast it sent Nellie startling back to the wall, Benjamin rose from his chair.

"No! Would no one have mercy on her...?"

Closing her eyes, Nellie spoke his name.

"Benjamin Barker..."

He whirled, throwing her against the wall with one hand around her throat.

"No! Not Barker. That man is dead. It's Todd, now, Sweeney Todd!"

The breath slowly seeped out from Nellie's body as she realized that Benjamin Barker would never return. Mr. Todd was right: Benjamin Barker was dead and gone.


	15. Chapter 15

**Midnight**

Chapter 15

"Please, love," Nellie gasped as Mr. Todd's hand stayed tight around her throat. "Calm yourself, Mr. Todd!"

With a dead look in his eyes Mr. Todd released her, letting her slide unceremoniously down the wall and to the floor. He collapsed back onto the chair with his head in his hands. A strangled sound came from his lips as Nellie picked herself up and straightened her skirts.

"What was that, dear?" she said, still a little out of breath.

"I've been away too long..." he moaned.

"Oh, love, no. Here- I've something for you!" She offered him a sunny, if a bit rusty, smile. An idea had occurred to her, something that might bring Benjamin back to her. Almost lifting Mr. Todd off the couch, Nellie led him outside to the external stairs, remembering that she had never moved all of Johanna's old stuff from their dusty resting places on the inside stairs.

The door to the barber shop apartment still jingled an out-of-place welcome for the rather somber occasion as Mr. Todd hesitated on the threshold.

"Nothing to be afraid of, love," Nellie reassured him gently.

Everything inside was blanketed in a thick layer of dust that dimmed the windows and traced thin strands between every piece of furniture. Nellie stomped her way across the boards, searching for the one that gave slightly under her feet. Mr. Todd drifted across the room to Johanna's crib and lifted the blanket tentatively; Nellie cursed herself for never putting it away.

"Here we are!" she said with forced brightness. "When they come for the girl I hid them. Could have sold them, but I didn't." Mr. Todd moved swiftly over to kneel across from her.

"Johanna? Who came...?"*

"Turpin." Nellie spat the name. "He hand his beadle took near everything except me and these." As an afterthought, she added, "Only didn't take me because I started waving the meat cleaver around. Then they scarpered so fast I didn't even have time to throw the thing at them."

Mr. Todd was no longer paying the least bit of attention. He flipped open the box, revealing seven exquisitely carved straight razors pillowed on red velvet.

"Ahhh. Them handles is chased silver, ain't they?" Nellie breathed. Seconds came and went before he answered.

"Silver. Yes."

He took one from the box and flicked it open, the dim light flashing off the blade.

"These are my friends. See this one shine, how he smiles in the light?" Mr. Todd's voice was low, almost creepy.

"Yes, it's all very pretty, but-" Ignoring Nellie, he brought the razor close to his face and whispered to it.

"My faithful friends... Speak to me, friend, I'll listen. I know you've been locked out of sight all these years!" Mr. Todd's voice rose, anger bringing a spark of lucidity back to him. "Like me, my friends!" The lucidity left him as soon as it had come, guiding his voice down in a gentle decrescendo.

"Well, I've come home to find you waiting...and we'll do wonders, won't we?"

A pang of desperate sadness shot through Nellie as Mr. Todd carried on his reunion with his razors. In the absence of Lucy or Johanna, why did cold lumps of metal suffice? Why wasn't she good enough? She jumped into the conversation, gripping Mr. Todd's shoulder.

"You there, my friend..."

"I'm your friend too, Mr. Todd!"

"Come let me hold you..."

"If you only knew, Mr. Todd."

"Now, with a sigh, you grow warm in my hand..."

"Ooh, Mr. Todd, you're warm in my hand!"

Her face was half an inch from his ear, on of each person's eye reflected in the razor. Turning her head ever so slightly, she whispered daringly:

"Come back to me, Benjamin."

The words took a moment to sink through his trance and he shook his head. Turning to face her, the look in his eyes was like black fire, all-consuming and terrible.


	16. Chapter 16

**Midnight**

Chapter 16

Mr. Todd gazed at Nellie in absolute and utter horror. Was she really stupid enough to go down that road again? _Really?_

But her eyes were swallowing up her face with their bigness, huge and terrified and oh so terribly _hopeful._ The first bit of real emotion he had seen in her today.

For all his faults, Mr. Todd was not a stupid man. He had noticed what a shell of herself Nellie was, how hollow and ravaged she had become. He didn't even want to know what she might have been through in his absence, especially considering that she had had Judge Turpin in her house and survived...physically, anyway...

_But his Lucy didn't._

"I told you not to call me that." His voice was even, monotonal, dead.

Nellie lowered her delicate head, bloody-colored curls swinging down from their haphazard updo. She closed her eyes. Her struggle against tears was only revealed in the blotched of red that mottled across her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Todd." She stood up, but lingered in the room like a reluctant spirit.

"Leave me."

Nellie drifted sadly out, lost. Her Benjamin, the one she had unconsciously clung to all these years, was as dead as if Turpin had run a knife through his chest.

But maybe there was hope!

Nellie lifted her head, new joy filling her face. The old Benjamin would have never let his Lucy go, however long she'd been dead. This Mr. Todd was so like Nellie herself, they had to be meant for each other. In coming back, he had filled her emptiness. Now she had to do the same for him. It was only fair.

_Eminently practical and yet appropriate as always._


	17. Chapter 17

**Midnight**

Chapter 17

Days passed, each beginning with Nellie rising at the crack of dawn to make Mr. Todd breakfast and prepare the kitchen with the light of hope in her eyes, and ending with her going to bed around midnight, bitterly disappointed and full of self-blame. Nellie was sure her calling Mr. Todd Benjamin hat second time had only done more to distance him, that they would be together and happy by now if she had just let it alone. But, as always, she talked herself out of the guilt by assuring herself that it was the past now, nothing to be done about it, and tomorrow was a new day.

Today, when she came into Mr. Todd's room with a steaming tray in her hands, she found him still asleep and thrashing about with his sheets twisted around him like a lover, a pained whimper barely suppressed by pressed-together lips.

Immediately abandoning the tray, Nellie sat down on the edge of the bed and seized Mr. Todd's shoulders, murmuring soothing things into his ear. She smoothed down his wild, sweat-soaked hair and stroked his cheeks, willing him to wake up.

Gasping for breath, he sat up with unseeing eyes and gripped Nellie painfully by her upper arms.

"She's gone, they're all gone and it's all his fault- my fault..."

"Hush, Mr. T, I'm still here. We're still here, ain't we? It's not your fault at all. If anything, it's mine- although that Turpin has his fair share of blame too-"

Suddenly seeming to come back to himself, he got up with enough force to throw Nellie from the bed. Running for the barbering room, he seized a razor from the open box. The cold silver glinting in the dim early-morning light calmed him somewhat, or at least collected him.

"There's a hole in the world like a great black pit and the _vermin_ of the world inhabit it!" he roared at no one in particular. His voice grew soft and dangerous, like far-off thunder.

"But not for long..."

Nellie climbed to her feet and cautiously approached him. He glanced to her, grinning like a madman.

"They all deserve to die! Tell you why, Mrs. Lovett, tell you why! Because in all of the whole human race, Mrs. Lovett, there are two kinds of men and _only _two! There the one staying put in his proper place and the one with his foot in the other's face-" He broke off and rushed at Nellie, turning her to face the cracked mirror leaning against one wall. Gesturing violently to it, he screamed, "Look at me, Mrs. Lovett, look at you!

"We all deserve to die! The lives of the wicked should be made brief! For the rest of us..." -he grew quieter and pensive- "death will be a relief.

"And I'll never see Johanna, no. I'll never... see my girl again..."

"Mr. Todd?" Nellie asked nervously. He seemed to have lost all perception of reality as he flung himself across the room, razor outstretched.

"I will have vengeance! I will have my _salvation! _

"Who, sir? You, sir? No one's in the chair, come on! You too, sir, welcome to the _grave! _Sweeney's waiting, I _want you bleeders!_"

"Mr. Todd!" Nellie screamed. He had thrown himself at a wall, his razor stabbing into the wood not five inches from her head, and fallen to his knees.

"My Lucy lies in ashes. I'll never... see my girl... again...

"But the work waits! I'm alive at last and full of _joy!_"

He collapsed on the floor, leaving Nellie staring at him, panting and terrified.

_**I'm leaving Pirelli and Anthony out of this, because they're annoying and hard to write for.**_


	18. Chapter 18

**Midnight**

Chapter 18

They both stayed frozen in place for a solid minute before Nellie recovered herself and implored Mr. Todd in a rather shaky voice to get up. He remained facedown on the floor as if dead.

"Come on. Great useless thing," she said with false bravado as she heaved him from the floor. You would have though he'd have _lost_ weight in Australia.

They bumped and struggled down the internal stairs; Nellie didn't want anyone to see her carrying down what appeared to be a corpse and Mr. Todd was dead to the world anyhow. She shoved him into a booth and letting him stare into space by himself while she fetched the gin and two glasses. No one drank alone in Nellie's presence, if only for selfish reasons.

"Here ya go, love." She pushed the half-full glass into Mr. Todd's hand and tipped back hers with a practiced flip of the wrist. Mr. Todd came to enough to down the gin and hold his glass out mutely for more.

Nellie complied and refilled her own glass as will.

And again.

And again.

Now it was dark, but when Nellie went to get a candle, she fell over and collapsed in uncontrollable giggles on the floor.

"Mrs. Lovett?" Mr. Tod called.

"I'm fahhn, luvv...fell- fell over..." she started laughing again and stumbled her way back to the booth.

"Mrs. Lovett, I do believe you've had too much gin."

"That makes two-a us!" She laughed again.

"Mrs. Lovett. Control yourself." His voice was sharp now, sombering the inebriated Nellie.

"I'm sorry... are you mad at me? Don't be mad at me!" She burst into noisy tears.

The tinkle of breaking glass right next to her head caught her attention back. Mr. Todd ad thrown his empty glass at her.

"You's gonna 'afta pay for 'at..."

"Mrs. Lovett. Can you..." Mr. Todd glanced down, his voice soft and hesitant. "Would you tell me about that night?"

Nellie stared at him for a moment as his words battered through her alcohol haze. When she realized what he was asking, her eyes dimmed. Skeletal white hands, looking like long-legged spider in the dark, twisted slowly together.

"Well. Turpin and beetle-thing had been coming around for about a week now. They brought flowers." She held her slim little hands about a foot apart. "Lotsa flowers.

"It was my fault. I- I went an' yelled at 'em..." The hands twisted into her blood-colored hair, twining among the corkscrew ringlets. Mr. Todd suddenly found himself with an intense and irrational desire to do the same with his hands.

"So beetle-thing came an' tuck 'ah ta 'is 'ouse. When she come back..." Nellie drew a ragged breath. "She was real bad hurt an' covered in... never mind. I put 'er in the parlor so I could put Johanna in bed... an' I come back..."

Nellie burst into tears, ragged, aching sobs. She wasn't quite sure why, Lucy had never been particularly important to her. It was just _everything_: she felt terrible for Mr. Todd, having to lose everyone; felt terrible for herself, never having much to lose; felt terrible for Johanna locked away in Turpin's house, Lucy's ashes floating in the sewer, the combined loss of everyone's innocence. Hers, Lucy's, Benjamin's, Johanna's...

She was warm. Someone was sitting next to her, quite close, with one hand in her hair and the other around her own hand. She looked up and oh God _Mr. Todd was holding her..._

"Mr-" His fingers were on her lips. This could not be happening, it was too much to hope for. He didn't speak, but the message was clear- _don't spoil it._

She turned her head and cried into Mr. Todd's shoulder as his hand moved from her hair and to her back. He rocked her back and forth slowly.

"Wait. Wait," Nellie gulped. "I have to finish." The shock of it all had slapped the slur right out of her voice.

"I found her in the parlor with a bottle of rat poison. She was stone-cold already, maybe she had even been dead before she got to drink it. She was close enough when she come in.

"I ran back out to where Johanna was, here in this room. Turpin and beetle-thing were here, but they hadn't noticed the baby yet. I threw a blanket over her and hoped to God she'd stay quiet.

"I went up to the two of them, asked them why they were here. They asked where Lucy was. Well, of course they knew full well where she was and they knew I knew, too. I said she'd never come home, though, to protect her and hopefully Johanna, too. You should have seen the look in Turpin's eyes, he looked like a starving child in a candy shop.

"Then they said they better take Johanna. They called her "the child", Mr. T, they didn't even know her name!" Mr. Todd's hands tightened convulsively and a small growl escaped low in his throat.

"So I got in front of them, I wasn't gonna let them take her. But then the Beadle grabbed me... and Turpin..."

Mr. Todd wrenched himself away from Nellie and stormed up the stairs. Nellie's mouth was half-open to tell him to take the outside stairs when a baby toy came flying down the stairs with and angry cry.

He came back down a moment later, knuckles turning white around one of his razors. Two more were jabbed through the straps on his barbering belt; the cloth and cream had clearly been abandoned upstairs.

"Mr. Todd!" Nellie cried, shocked. She stood, but although she no longer _sounded_ drunk, her body betrayed itself and toppled over. Mr. Todd called to her that he'd be right back. His voice sounded deep, rough, dangerous. By the time Nellie had hauled herself up, using the table for support, he had slammed the door with enough force to break the panels of glass and send the little bell crashing to the ground. Her few lurching steps didn't do much; he was already out of sight.


	19. Chapter 19

**Midnight**

Chapter 19

Plopping back onto the torn fabric of the booth, Nellie was surprised to find herself not all that concerned. In fact, she wasn't too much of anything. Kind of squiggly...and wavy...hazy...

Nellie's head lolled back against the wall as if her neck muscles had dissolved, eyes closing against her will. She fought the sleep for only a moment before it wrapped along her eyes and dissolved them.

When she woke, her temples were throbbing like a tiny imp was inside them with a pickax. Her back sent stabs of pain through her body as she sat up from the odd position in which she had fallen asleep. Struggling up from her twisted perch, she stumbled over to the water basin and splashed it onto her face. She had to make Mr. Todd's breakfast and get the shop ready to open and _why _did her head hurt so much?

There was a nearly empty bottle of gin and a glass on the table. Nellie was shocked at herself. How could she have done that? She _never_ drank that much. Not in one night, anyway. Not alone.

There were shards of glass littering the bench where she had fallen asleep. Could it be possible... could she have been drinking with _Mr. Todd?_

No. He would never...

Oh God. She _remembered_. She remembered his hands...

His hands clenched around his straight razor, eyes filled with bitterness and vengeance, storming away, leaving her...

Going after Turpin.

Oh no. Oh _no._

She took half a step toward the door when it clicked open. The fallen bell skittered across the floor and a booted foot pushed in.

"Oh, Mr. T, I was so w-" Nellie stopped short, her arms that had been held open snapping to her sides.

"Why hello, Nellie. Mr. T? Have you a gentleman friend now, my dear?"

Nellie could only stare, wishing that she could burn people with her eyes. If it was possible, the poisonous gaze she was turning on that terrible man would have done it already.

It was Turpin.

"Darling," he said, oily tones oozing. "You can talk, you know. I won't- well, no, I can't say that. I most certainly do bite."

Nellie felt that she might faint or puke or both.

Turpin closed the distance between them with a few strides and took her hands. Nellie wrinkled her nose and tried to pull away, but his grip was iron tight. Nellie thought wistfully of Mr. Todd's gentle but work-roughened hands.

Turpin shifted both of Nellie's wrists to one hand and brought her face to his with the other.

"Ah, Nellie. I haven't seen you in years! You've aged so, my dear. I do hope I didn't have a hand in that. It's such a waste."

_Please, Mr. Todd. Please come home. Please hurry._

But Turpin pulled her close and backed them up toward the wall. Then, with a terrible vicious movement, he gripped her head and slammed it against the wall.

Her last thought was how his wig smelled like rot as it brushed against his sweaty shoulder.

- - -

Mr. Todd banged through the door, angry that Turpin and his greasy Beadle- or beetle, as Mrs. Lovett called him- were nowhere to be found. But he had gotten over his all-consuming fit of anger and was ready to think rationally- or at least think of a plan.

And also, he might possibly be looking forward to seeing Mrs. Lovett. Maybe just slightly.

So when he walked into Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pie Emporium, he could barely comprehend what he was seeing.

There was Turpin, facing the wall and moving in the jerky dance of- Mr. Todd dared not think it. Twined around his neck were two very familiar, thin white arms.

He watched in shock and growing anger as Turpin's hands held Mrs. Lovett's voluminous skirts against the wall, fiddling with the ribbons that held her petticoats around her waist until they puddled around her feet. They ran down the buttons that held up her bodice so that it joined the puddle of frills pooled on the floor and zigzagged down the laces on her corset. They ran up and down her like cockroaches.

Just about to blow up and probably kill them both, Mr. Todd noticed something odd. Nellie's head, when Turpin's hand was not circling it, lolled back against the wall. The arms that twisted around his neck hung limp and loose, like strings.

Mr. Todd flung his razor with all his strength and all his anger.


	20. Chapter 20

**Midnight**

Chapter 20 (yay! I made it!)

Mr. Todd watched with satisfaction as the razor buried itself up to the handle in Turpin's back and the man turned, a shocked expression decorating his face.

"Stay away from my..." he paused. What was Nellie to him? "My friend." Turpin gaped at him.

"You...you..."

"Yes. Benjamin Barker, fiend. _Benjamin Barker!" _Mr. Todd stepped up next to the Judge, tearing the razor from his back and drawing a jagged line across the Judge's throat. Gazing up at him, still in shock, Turpin died splattered in rubies.

Nellie had fallen loosely to the floor without Turpin's support, and lay crumpled in a whirl of torn skirts and rubies that seemed to Todd to be much less beautiful as they mixed with her curly hair. Dropping to his knees, he gently picked her up, surprised and scared by how feather-light she was. Her blood dripped a sporadic path of bite-sized rubies.

Mr. Todd laid Nellie softly on her bed, using a sheet to bind up her head. Then he sat at the edge of her bed awkwardly, wondering what to do now. He absentmindedly washed the dried blood of her alabaster cheeks and then just stared at her, wondering how much more the world could possibly do to this woman.

He had sat like that for a solid five minutes before he remembered. The body! What if someone walked in, looking for a pie... unlikely, but still... Mr. Todd ran out to the kitchen and heaved Turpin's corpse into his arms.

_Where to put it...where to put it... _The chest, upstairs. Nothing was in there and nobody would look inside. He dragged the body upstairs by his arms, letting his feet bump against each wooden step like a heartbeat. Then he rolled the thing up and over the side of the chest, closed it securely, and locked it.

"Mr. Todd..." Nellie was calling him from downstairs.

"Are you awake already?" he asked upon reentering her room. "You should rest, your head..."

"No. No, Mr. Todd... I have something... to ask you..." She looked terrified, but determined. "Please, Mr. Todd." There was a long pause.

"What? What do you need?"

Motioning him forward with one of her amazing hands, she leaned up to whisper into his ear.

"What! No, Mrs. Lovett! You're recovering from rape and a head injury, there's no way I'm going to-"

"But that's exactly why I want you to do it! If... if I'm pregnant... This way, I won't know whose it is. Please, Mr. Todd. Do this one thing for me."

She was so full of desperate pleading, Mr. Todd couldn't tell her no.

"All right," he said softly, and leaned over the bed.

_**Wow! Chapter twenty! A Scarlett record! Now how 'bout we get the reviews past 80, yes? **_

_**To xoxo: Thanks so much for your review! I had so many themes going on in this story that it was just too much trouble to keep Lucy alive. And calling Beadle the beetle-thing is just so much fun! ^^**_


	21. Chapter 21

**Midnight**

Chapter 21

_******Warning Warning Warning Smut Smut Smut Warning Warning Warning Smut Smut Smut******_

Mr. Todd held himself up by his elbows so Nellie didn't have to bear his weight. He was planning to just do the thing and get it over with, but her beautiful slim white hands reached up to his face and he was lost. He took one of them and held it to his mouth, smelling her scent of flour and bread dough even through the smells of rape and blood. Nellie smiled blissfully as he kissed it and whispered his name over and over: _Sweeney Sweeney Sweeney Sweeney...._

Their lips came together with a touch light as a butterfly landing. Each wanted to give more, but Nellie was too weak and Sweeney was afraid to hurt her. She removed his vest and slid her hands under his shirt while he slipped off the remains of her dress. He hissed her name into the soft skin of her collarbone: _Nellie Nellie Nellie Nellie..._

His lips moved downwards and Nellie reached for the laces on his pants. He eagerly shoved her shredded skirts out of the way. Both bodies moved faster, their hard breathing providing a metronome for their bodies to follow.

_Nellie Nellie Nellie Sweeney Sweeney Sweeney..._

_I love you._

_**I'm sorry, that was awkward enough. I can't write about anything below the waist. Or even really below the collarbone, as you can see. Use your imaginations.**_


	22. Chapter 22

**Midnight**

Chapter 22

Nellie wrapped her legs around his to pull them even closer. She moved her lips against his. They danced together in a perfectly synchronized duet.

The night slipped away and pink dawn light slanted across the bed. He was sleeping softly, but Nellie watched the sun creep behind London's everpresent curtain of clouds. A slow, silent tear stroked her cheek and she turned to look at her lover.

She smiled, tossing the tear away. She didn't have to fool herself any longer. She had her lover, and he was midnight dark.

_**If you can't figure out why this is familiar, go back to the first chapter.**_


	23. Chapter 23

**Midnight**

Chapter 23

"So you killed the judge... and you put him in a clothes chest upstairs. You don't bury him... you don't throw him in the oven... you put him in a chest." Nellie was propped up on her elbow, staring at Sweeney with a _duh_ expression. Sweeney shrugged sheepishly.

"I couldn't think of anything better to do." Nellie sighed and climbed out of bed, feeling with pleasure Sweeney's eyes skimming her body before she wrapped up in a silken dressing robe that she hadn't worn for years. It swished pleasingly around her calves as she walked upstairs, the boards cold on her bare feet. Sweeney followed as if hypnotized.

Flinging open the chest, she stared into it with distaste.

"What a lot of blood." Her fingers dove into his coat pockets, searching until they discovered a small satin drawstring purse. "Waste not, want not," she pronounced, tucking the purse into her bosom.

Sweeney gazed at her with amazement. What a lot it took to faze her.

She stared off into the window-glass, pensive, her fingers fluttering in her characteristic "I'm thinking" gesture.

"Seems a downright shame..."

"Shame?" Sweeney asked incredulously. "Did that hit addle your head?"

"Seems an awful waste... Such a nice plump frame what's-his-name has- had?- has. Nor it can't be traced..."

"Nellie?" But she was off in her own little world.

"Business needs a lift, there's debts to be erased. Think of it as thrift! As a gift, even... if you get my drift." She glanced sideways at Sweeney. He stared back, nonplussed. "No?

"Seems an awful waste..." she said once more. She began to pace back and forth.

"I mean with the price of meat what it is, when you get it... _if _you get it." Understanding lit Sweeney's face.

"Ah!"

"Good, you got it! Take for instance, Mrs. Mooney and her pie shop! Business never better using only pussycats and toast! And a pussy's only good for six or seven at the most... and I'm sure they can't compare as far as taste!"

"Mrs. Lovett, what a charming notion, eminently practical and yet appropriate as always!" Sweeney yelled, grabbing her hands.

"Well, it does seem a waste! It _is_ an idea!"

"Mrs. Lovett, how I've lived without you all these years I'll never know!" he laughed, kissing her happily. "How delectable! Also undetectable!"

"Think about it! Lots of gentlemen'll come in for a shave, won't they? Think of all them pies!"

"How choice! How rare!" Sweeney led her to the window and swooped his hand in an all-encompassing gesture. "For what's the sound of the world out there?"

Leaning closer to him, Nellie played along.

"What, Mr. Todd, what is that sound?"

"Those crunching noises pervading the air!"

"Yes, Mr. Todd, yes, all around!"

"It's man devouring man, my dear!"

Spinning around, they cried together:

"And who are we to deny it in here?"

Sweeney spun Nellie about to a waltz they only heard in their heads. Nellie knew that this was more of a deteriorating mind than an amazing idea on her part, but she didn't care.

"Why, Mrs. Lovett, I never knew you had such a blood lust," Sweeney said. She tossed her curls defiantly and grinned.

"Well, Mr. Todd, you learn something new every day. Shall I get started? You can carry the thing down, but I don't trust you in the subtle art of pie-cooking."

"Whatever you say. I have a bit of renovation to do up here myself." He picked up the body and dragged it down to the bakehouse, leaving it to Nellie and her knives. He suspected she'd get much joy out of butchering Turpin.

Then he ran about the building, rounding up any and all tools inside. It seemed she had never thrown out either of his or Albert's toolboxes, so he had plenty to work with. He stole a chair from the upstairs parlor, which he guessed would go to dust anyhow. He didn't plan on entertaining.

He dismembered a broken grandfather clock in the attic for the necessary gears and found a rusty saw under Nellie's bed.

"I'm not even going to ask," he murmured upon finding _that_.

By the time he had finished, dusk had fallen. But the chair was now bolted to the floor, a pedal made from one of those wrought-iron things Nellie put her hot pie trays on sticking out to one side. When it was pressed, the chair swung smoothly back and a trapdoor behind it opened, sending his victim down to the bakehouse below.


	24. Chapter 24

**Midnight**

Chapter 24

By midmorning the next day, signs were up all over London advertising the grand opening of Mr. Sweeney Todd's Tonsorial Parlor and the grand re-opening of Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pie Emporium. Some came because they needed a shave, some came because they were hungry. Some came to laugh at how terrible the pies were (but these were pleasantly surprised.) For whatever reason, the shop was packed by the time evening had fallen and there was a line trailing down the external stairs up to the barber shop. Of course, Sweeney had to be careful whom he murdered tonight: there were too many witnesses for a real bloodbath. But he kept the meat coming nevertheless; and soon Judge was replaced with flavors like Tailor, Seamstress, and even one very annoying Italian Barber.

"I suspect this one'll taste a bit garlicky," he mentioned to Nellie when she came up to visit.

But with each throat he slit, Sweeney felt more and more depressed. Every time he tried to pinpoint the feeling, it darted out of sight- until a small family came in. A father, a mother, and a babe in arms.

The father sat down and cooed to his daughter across the room.

"Hey darling, watch Daddy get a shave, yes?" The golden-haired daughter giggled and waved a tiny fist up from her blankets. The mother, a mirror image of her baby, smiled indulgently.

A deep pain shot through Sweeney as he watched this family that could have been his fifteen years ago. As he slid his razor over this man's neck, his thoughts drifted to Johanna.

"I'm closing after this one," he called out the door, mastering his voice with difficulty so it wouldn't shake. A line of disgruntled customers grumbled their way down the stairs. They really couldn't complain, Sweeney and Nellie had kept both shops open almost til midnight.

As Nellie cleared out the last of the drunks with a flick of her washrag and a few loud words, Sweeney came slumping down the stairs.

"Well, that went well, don't you think?" Nellie beamed. "Show ol' Mrs. Mooney, anyhow. D'you know she was here tonight? The nerve of her! I gave her the last of that greasy Turpin. He didn't get rave reviews, I must say. Actually, the most popular of the lot was that Italian Barber. You're right, many people asked me if I'd used more garlic in that one. We really must find another one of those, he really-"

"Nellie."

"-was by far the best one, according to the customers of course, I would never-"

"Nellie!"

"-taste any of those things, not with what goes into 'em-"

"NELLIE!"

The baker stopped talking abruptly, jumping at the harshness of Sweeney's voice.

"Oh, I'm sorry, love. What do you need?"

"I need my daughter."


	25. Chapter 25

**Midnight**

Chapter 25

Nellie listened patiently through Sweeney's entire plan, even though there were several times where she thought she might burst if she didn't interrupt. By the time he finished, her face was cherry red and well on its way to blue.

"Are- you- finished?" she asked politely, if a bit tightly. He nodded, looking hangdog and a bit apprehensive. This was, after all, the woman who had cheerfully butchered and cooked human corpses all night.

"Okay then. Now let me see if I've got this straight.

"You want me to wear a whore dress and go sashaying into the Judge's house in case the Beadle's still there and needs distracting, smelling of alcohol and fairly inviting him into my- never mind, we don't need to go there. And, may I remind you, this is after I've already been held down by said Beadle and almost raped by his little Judgie friend, who did, may I remind you again, eventually get to me. Then, while I'm busy getting raped-"

"Oh, don't be dramatic, Nellie, you know full well you could kill that thing with your butcher knife in three seconds flat-"

"While I'm busy getting raped," she insisted, talking over him, "_again,_ you run in and fetch your bonny daughter. Then, considering I'm still sound in mind and body, you come back, telling Johanna to stay in they hallway so as not to ruin her innocent mind, and tear Beadle off my cold dead body- or mad raving one, whichever- and slice the little roach's throat. All the while taking no consideration at all to my baby!"

They were both silent, eyes wide with shock. Nellie slapped one hand over her lips.

"Possible. Possible baby," she amended hastily, quietly. Sweeney covered her free hand with his and opened his mouth to say something, anything to ease the pain and confusion plain in Nellie's eyes. But he should have known better; Nellie had lived alone and been independent for too long to accept his help. She slapped his hand away and stormed up the stairs to her room.

"I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Mr. Todd."

The coldness in her voice hurt almost as mush as the formality of the honorific restored to his name.

- - -

Mr. Todd paced. It was a habit he detested, formerly because it kept him from dreams of Lucy. Now because it kept him from the reality of Nellie.

He hated himself for suggesting that plan. She was right, it was too dangerous. Hadn't he put her through enough already?

_No, no._ The little voice in the back of his head that always took Lucy's voice spoke up. _What has she done for you? the relationship is just convenience and need. Just business. And maybe a bit of a hand fetish._

"I do not have a hand fetish!"

_Honey, I am you. I know what your fetishes are. You have a blood fetish and a hand fetish._

"I'm not listening to this. I am not some lunatic who talks to the voices in their head!"

_Clearly you are._

Sweeney shouted angrily and hurled his heavy sharpening stone across the room. It clattered against his desk and set the double picture frame holding Lucy's and Johanna's likenesses falling to the ground. The glass shattered.

He stared at it blankly.

His boots were too loud as they tromped across the hall to Nellie's room.

"I wn't put you in any more danger. But she's my daughter. I have to get her back. I can't just leave her, do you understand?" His voice had started out admirably level, but it rose uncontrollably at the end.

There was no answer.

Sweeney screamed and slammed his fist against the door. Still nothing. He threw it open-

Nellie wasn't there. Her bed was neatly made and the room clean. The valise that normally stood abandoned in the corner was gone. He opened her closet; bare. No chemises strewn across the floor, no petticoats piled in the corners, no voluminous silk dresses streaked with flour and waiting to be washed.

She was gone.


	26. Chapter 26

**Midnight**

Chapter 26

Sweeney ran out of the house with two razors jammed securely in their holsters, not sure if he was going to find Nellie or to get Johanna. But he found himself at Turpin's palatial house when he'd stopped walking, so he went in.

A self-assured maid accosted him at the door.

"Sir, ya can't be in 'ere. Miss Johanna ain't takin' no visitors. She's in mournin' for 'er late guardian and fiancée." She tossed her red hair, supremely confident. Not unlike Nellie.

He brushed the girl aside impatiently. She didn't give up, though, just looped around him and held him back.

"Sir-" Sweeney backhanded the girl across the head and sent her crumpling to the floor. He stared at his hand for a moment like it was an alien creature, then shook his head and continued through the house.

He didn't come across anyone else brave enough to stop him; his death glare and silver razors cam in quite handy. Johanna's room turned out to be the last one down the hall, as evidenced by the blue silk coverlet and numerous embroidery projects lying scattered. But she was not there.

Slamming the door angrily, Sweeney whirled to continue down the hall, but reeled back. The Beadle was standing right in front of him, smirking.

"Why sir, I don't believe you have permission to- oh! Oh dear, now this really isn't necessary-"

Sweeney had his razor pressed close to the Beadle's throat.

"Where is Johanna?" he roared.

"Funny," the Beadle said, his voice trembling. "That's funny, you're the second person who's burst in here asking for the child. First one was a whore though, no doubt she thought she was the child's mother-"

"A whore? With red hair?" The Beadle nodded. "Where are they? Both of them. Tell me!" The razor drew a fine red line.

"Turpin had Johanna taken to Fogg's, sir, just a week ago. The whore, um, she's..."

"Tell me!"

"She's in the parlor!"

With a sound like ripping paper, the razor cut the Beadle's throat and he collapsed. Sweeney rushed to the parlor, terrified of what he might find.

"Nellie!" he screamed, bursting through the door.

"Get out of here, scum, or I swear I'll- oh. It's you." Nellie was crouched on top of a secretary desk, wearing a low cut siren red dress and clutching her butcher knife.

"Where did you get that dress? And-" Sweeney peered closer. "Are you wearing fishnets? And _garters?_" Nellie tucked her skirt around her legs, face turning red with embarrassment.

"Took your advice, that's all. But then she wasn't even here...so I kinda got lost as to what to do. And now you're here..."

Sweeney stretched his arms up and Nellie slipped down into them, but pulled away as soon as her feet were on the ground.

"She's in the asylum," Sweeney said. "I have to go get her." Nellie noticed how he didn't say "we."

"And how do you propose to do that? I'm not going to get myself committed to a madhouse, if that's what you're suggesting."

Sweeney was silent.


	27. Chapter 27

**Midnight**

Chapter 27

They stood together like that, in silence, for a while. Each searched their thoughts for a plan, but nothing came. The house echoed their silence grimly, breathing the death stench onto them.

"What about hair?" Nellie suggested at length.

"Hair?"

"Yes, hair. You know, them wigmakers gets their hair from the crazies in Fogg's. You're a barber. Why couldn't you make wigs?"

"Ah! I see. I just go in asking for yellow hair..."

"...then look around for Johanna. It's perfect!"

"Mrs. Lovett, you're a bloody wonder!" Sweeney cried, grabbing her around the waist and whirling her in a circle. Nellie laughed.

"Come on then, let's go!"

Fogg's Asylum was dim and ominous, a stone fortress with barred windows where pale, spidery hands grasped and white faces appeared and disappeared like the specters they were. Someone was screaming, someone was singing, someone yelled expletives to the cold air.

"Rather you than me, love," Nellie whispered. "I'll wait out here. Try to be quick, all right?"

"Yes," he said, stepping with dread through the forbidding doors.

"'ello, sir, what may I 'elp ya with today?" Fogg was a skinny little wraith of a man with jutting face bones, dead eyes, and wispy gray hair. His hands were unnaturally tiny and wrestled restlessly with each other.

"I've come for hair," Sweeney said. The inside of the asylum was no more hospitable than the outside, maybe even more so. The walls dripped with damp and mold; unidentifiable stains splattered across the floor. A stench of decay and death echoed through the whole place, an all-consuming, almost tangible thing that pressed down on you like a heavy coat.

"Wot color 'air wos it you wos lookin' for, sir?" Fogg said. Sweeney didn't answer at first, mesmerized and horrified by the emaciated faces that screamed from doorways, the thin arms that reached through the bars in supplication. "Sir?"

"Oh. Um, yellow."

"Ahh, the blondes. One of my favorites, personally. We got the redheads 'ere..." He gestured to a door. "Brunettes 'ere... I keeps the blondes in 'ere." He opened the heavy door.

The large-ish room contained about thirty women, all blond. Some were rocking back and forth rhythmically, some were curled into a fetal position, thumbs in their mouths. Some just stared blankly from frozen positions along the walls. But they all erupted in screams and crying upon Fogg's entry. Sweeney felt sick, wondering what terrible things this man had done to his inmates to elicit such a reaction.

His eyes raked the room for Johanna. What did she look like now? Was she dark-eyed and lean like him, or sunny and bright like Lucy?

Near the window, a slim girl sat quietly with her back to the door. Long wavy hair cascaded down her back and her small body was imprisoned in a dark gray straitjacket. She turned very slightly, just enough to catch the dim light on the delicate bones of her face. But there was absolutely no doubt in Sweeney's mind: This was Johanna.

The breath fluttered in his throat and he tried desperately to gain control of himself.

"That one there has the shade I need," he said, pointing at his daughter.

"Come, child," Fogg said, leering as he pulled out a long pair of rusty scissors. "Smile for the gentleman and you shall have a sweetie. Now. Where shall I cut?"

Sweeney whipped out his razor and pressed it hard to Fogg's throat.

"One more word," he warned quietly. He scooped Johanna up, who looked terrified. "Hush. Don't worry. I'm your father. I'm here to save you."

She gaped at him, open-mouthed.

"I leave you to their mercy," he said to Fogg. Angry roars spilled out the cell behind Sweeney and Johanna as they slipped away.


	28. Chapter 28

**Midnight**

Chapter 28

Sweeney and Johanna left the building with no problems once he had sliced open her straitjacket and left it discarded in a dark corner. Nellie was waiting outside, but she was in a less conspicuous gray dress and held a valise clutched in one hand.

"You left?" Sweeney said accusingly, taking the valise from her. She snatched it back, not about to be babied.

"Only for a minute, love. All my stuff was at a little inn down the street. I had to change out of that dress, I got three offers to- well, never mind." She stopped herself hastily as Sweeney directed a meaningful glance at Johanna. "Anyway, hello, Johanna darling! I don't expect you remember me. You was just a baby when he took you away. But I'm Mrs. Lovett. I used to take care of you when you was little. You just call me Nellie, dear."

Johanna nodded vaguely, seeming slightly shell-shocked by the amount of words Nellie could produce within thirty seconds. Nellie saw quickly that the girl would be much like her father in terms of speaking.

Tucking her free hand into Sweeney's elbow, she pulled them away from the madhouse threatening behind them.

"Oh bugger, I've got so much to do!" she sighed when she reentered the shop. "Um, Mr. Todd. Will we be continuing with our meat choice...?" He shook his head adamantly.

"Well, I suppose it was to be expected," she grumbled somewhat sullenly. "Well, you two go on upstairs, catch up and all. I'll be up in a moment with clean sheets for the extra bed." She bustled off.

"Does she always talk that much?" Johanna asked in her quiet way as the pair ascended the stairs.

"Yes." An unexpected smile bloomed briefly across Johanna's face.

"Well, I like her anyway."

_Me too, _Sweeney thought, but didn't say. He still wasn't sure if what they had was real. The only time he had ever made love to her it had been out of her desperation. And although he knew she was completely in love with him, he wasn't sure if he was ready to love her.

"This'll be your room," he said to Johanna. "Mine is across the hall, Mrs. Lovett's is down that way. The pie shop's downstairs, where we came in, the bakehouse is in the basement. My barber shop is that door there." Johanna took it all in for a minute before turning to her father and giving him a cautious hug.

"Thank you," she whispered.


	29. Chapter 29

**Midnight**

Chapter 29

Nellie wondered how the two would ever get the whole story what with their non-willingness to speak, but she left them alone nonetheless. She had pies to cook, tables to wash, and meat to stretch as far as possible.

How could Sweeney do this to them? And just as they acquired another mouth to feed, and one so in need of good strong food too? He knew how terrible her pies were without his input, he knew that she couldn't possibly support them that way!

What was he trying to prove? That he could be a normal person for his ghostly little daughter? He clearly wasn't anyways, and neither was she!

Might as well face the truth of it: Nellie could find another way to support them all. And his barbering business would help too. It wasn't the monetary aspect of it she really cared about.

Would he still love her when they had nothing to unite them? No common cause, no shared interests? He would want to bring Johanna up with as little input as possible, it was just the way he was. He would forget Nellie, he would lose interest. She was no longer useful to him.

Her eyes burned and those hectic blush spots that come from holding back tears broke out across her face. No, no, she didn't cry. Not over men. It was pointless, futile...

Oh bugger. A teardrop slipped free from its prison and fell down her face. She brushed it away violently. It must be almost her time, that's what was wrong with her. Just normal female troubles. Come to think of it, it was about the time where she normally bled. Nellie went to her room to check, just in case.

No. Her bloomers were spotless.

Soon, though, soon. It had to come soon.

She banished the longing and all the fears that came with it quickly from her head and busied herself gathering sheets.


	30. Chapter 30

**Midnight**

Chapter 30

Nellie found herself disliking Johanna more and more as the time dragged on. She was fluttery, flighty, scared of her own shadow, and absolutely adored Nellie. Just like Lucy. She followed the baker everywhere, not talking near as much as her mother had, but annoying just the same. Nellie had ruined more than a few pies with the girl breathing down her neck and occasionally emitting a gasp of joy or an _ooh_ of wonder. Even worse, her presence made Sweeney even more moody and prone to brooding than usual. Nellie suspected it was because Johanna reminded him so much of Lucy. She must bring back old memories.

As for Nellie herself, it had been over a month since she was supposed to start bleeding and her underwear remained spotless. She could no longer deny that she was pregnant with _something._ Sometimes she stroked her hand over her stomach at night and shuddered, wondering if part of Judge Turpin was inside her. Other times, she would do the same, only lovingly and wondering if some bit of Sweeney was growing under the place where her hands glided.

She hadn't told Sweeney yet, remembering the effect stress had had on Albert and not wanting another Eva. This baby, however, remained unnamed. Somehow she couldn't bring herself to even think about names until she knew whose it was.

This was what she was thinking about in the rainy day when a young boy carrying a haversack and wearing the uniform of a sailor came in for a pie and some gin. She smiled at him absently, calling for Johanna to get the gin while her hands went through the practiced process of shaping a pie.

Johanna came out and set a tall bottle and a glass next to the boy shyly. He thanked her, then looked up.

It was as if he had never seen a girl before. His eyes swelled to the size of saucers as he gazed at her.

"I'm Anthony," he said, awestruck.

"Johanna," she said softly, ducking her head to hide the slight smile that twitched across her face. He smiled back.

Nellie smiled too. It looked like she might finally be rid of the silly little nit.


	31. Chapter 31

**Midnight**

Chapter 31

Sweeney chose this moment to come tramping down the stairs, razor turning in his hands and his depressed, "I'm brooding, don't bother me" look on his face.

"Wouldn't eat that if I were you, boy," he mumbled as Nellie set the steaming meat pie in front of Anthony. He barely noticed, still immersed in the staring contest he and Johanna seemed to be holding, but Nellie threw a glob of dough at Sweeney.

"Oh, shut up," she said amiably, smiling at no one in particular. Which was good, because no one noticed. Nellie made a face.

The clock tower bells chimed three and Anthony glanced up guiltily.

"I have to go," he said sadly, getting up and brushing past Johanna as slowly as possible. He took one of her hands and grasped it briefly before fleeing the shop.

"Well, wasn't he a catch?" Nellie said brightly. Johanna smiled brokenly as she watched him hurry down the street and sighed.

Suddenly, he turned and ran back. He flew through the door, grabbed Johanna, kissed her quickly on the lips, then ran as fast as he could back out again.

Sweeney growled in outrage and made as if to go after the boy, but Nellie seized his arm. She nodded meaningfully toward Johanna, whose face was transformed with bliss. She giggled, touching her lips lightly, and blushed.

Sweeney swallowed and turned away, letting Nellie hug him for the first time since Johanna had come. Nellie felt like blushing herself, his arms felt _so_ good wrapped around her body. Her fingers dug into his wide shoulders, wanting to hold onto him forever.

"Oh, Miss Nellie, isn't he wonderful?" Johanna's breathy voice shattered the moment abruptly.

"Yes, just perfect," Nellie said tightly and escaped to the bakehouse.

It still smelled like death down here, and coupled with the waves of heat from the oven and the bloody corpses of various animals strewn everywhere, the whole place gave Nellie the feeling that she was in Hell. But it was her Hell, and this was where she went when she wanted to be alone.

She immediately sat down on the dirty stone floor, drew her knees up to her chest, and sobbed for no reason she could firmly pinpoint. But loud wailing sobs still poured from her, ricocheting off the uncaring walls, and she let them go with abandon.

She hated that skinny, lovestruck, scared, silly little twit of a girl! And she hated her stupid, long-haired, puppy-dog-eyed beau!

She hated the girl for having a chance.


	32. Chapter 32

**Midnight**

Chapter 32

Sweeney could hear faint crying from the bakehouse. Leaving Johanna to wander the house, humming to herself and touching her lips every so often, he made the trek down the steep metal stairs to find Nellie curled up in a ball, sobbing.

He lingered at the door, not up to dealing with female eccentricities, when she looked up and saw him. He expected to get yelled at to leave, but she motioned him over instead.

Sweeney lowered himself to the floor and put his arm around Nellie awkwardly. She threw herself into the halfhearted embrace passionately and proceeded to thickly water-stain the shoulder of his shirt.

"I'm pregnant," she wailed.

"I know," he said. She sniffled and looked up.

"You do?" He stared at her for a minute with an "Isn't it obvious?" expression. But it was clearly not obvious, so he waved his arm in a gesture that seemed to encompass Nellie's whole current state of being. "Oh."

"Normally when you're having... female... troubles, you get mad and snap at everybody. Or you're unusually happy. This... isn't you."

Nellie was flattered that he'd taken notice of her premenstrual habits, and slowly her tears dried. She wiped her nose with one arm.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sure you want to... you have something better..." Sweeney kissed her hair hesitantly.

"I'm sorry too."

"Good." Sweeney's mouth twitched as if he wanted to laugh.

"What am I sorry for?" he asked her, curious.

"Well, you _should _be sorry for ignoring me. For hiding up in your room all the time. For... for not... remembering. Us." Suddenly, Nellie had a stroke of inspiration. She jumped up.

"I have an idea!" she said, all tears forgotten. "Let's go on a picnic!"

Personally, Sweeney thought it the worst idea Nellie had ever thought of. But he wasn't about to set her off again. So he just nodded repeatedly, his mouth flattened into a stricken line.


	33. Chapter 33

**Midnight**

Chapter 33

Nellie was beaming as she spread the quilt across a shady patch of grass under a huge oak tree. Johanna looked quite terrified, as if so much space might swallow her up. Sweeney looked like he was in pain, a picnic basket slung over one shoulder.

"Isn't this lovely?" Nellie sighed contentedly. Johanna jumped at the sound of her voice and Sweeney rolled his eyes. Nellie passed out food and laid back on the blanket with her hands behind her head.

Suddenly she sat back up again and scooted quite close to Sweeney. Her head was suddenly right next to his ear as she rose up on her knees.

"Ooh, Mr. Todd," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "I'm so happy!" She kissed him again. "I could eat up, I really could!" She kissed him once more.

"Are you drunk?" She laughed as if he were joking.

"You know what I'd like to do, Mr. Todd?" she continued, still punctuating every few words with a kiss. "What I dream, if the business'd stayed as good? Where I'd really like to go in a year or so?"

"Mrs. Lovett, please-"

"Don't you want to know?" Sweeney gave up.

"Yes, yes of course," he sighed.

"D'you really want to know?"

"Yes, I do!"

"I've always had this dream, ever since I was a skinny little slip of a thing and me rich Aunt Nettie used to take me down to the seaside every August Bank Holiday. The pier... making little castles in the sand..." She smiled blissfully, staring off into space.

"By the sea, Mr. Todd, that's the life I covet, by the sea, ooh, I know you'd love it! You and me, Mr. T, we could be alone in a house wot we'd almost own down by the sea! Wouldn't that be smashing?"

"Anything you say." Nellie threw an arm around his shoulders and leaned her head against him.

"We'll have kippered herring that has swum to us straight from the Strait of Bering! And every night I'll be there slipping off your slippers! By the sea, with the fishies splashing... by the sea! Wouldn't it be smashing?"

"Anything you say, anything you say." Just _please_ stop talking...

"Think how snug it'll be underneath our flannel, just you and me and the English Channel... Oh, I can see us now in our bathing dresses! You in a nice rich navy, and me... stripes, perhaps. It'll be so quiet, that who'll come by it, except a seagull? We shouldn't try it until it's legal for two..."

"Wait, what?"

"But a seaside wedding could be devised, me rumpled bedding legitimized..."

By this time Sweeney was trying frantically to shut her up.

"Mrs. Lovett, Johanna!" he hissed. She grinned.

"Sorry, love. But us married nice and proper by the sea... you could even bring along your chopper!"

"Yes, pet. Anything you say. Can we please go home now?"


	34. Chapter 34

**Midnight**

Chapter 34

Anthony had returned within the week, bearing a broad smile and a wedding ring. Johanna accepted and threw her arms around him with more force than Nellie had thought was possible in the sticklike little body.

"Oh, Miss Nellie, I want such a pretty little wedding. Just you, me, Anthony, and Father... with little pink rosebuds and sprays of baby's breath." She sighed, caught up in imaginings.

"Miss Nellie?" Nellie took notice of the hesitant tone in Johanna's voice and set down her pie.

"Yes, love?" She had found the girl much easier to deal with once she knew she would soon be gone.

"Do you have my mother's wedding dress? I didn'y want to ask Daddy, because I wasn't sure..." She didn't say exactly what it was she wasn't sure about, but Nellie understood.

"I'm sure it's upstairs somewhere, love... Why don't you finish this batch up and I'll go look for it?" Johanna nodded happily and hugged the baker around the waist.

"I'm really glad you're here, Miss Nellie."

Nellie smiled softly and kissed Johanna's yellow hair.

- - -

Nellie had been rooting around in old trunks, closets, and every forgotten corner she could find without ever laying eyes on the wedding dress. She had not asked Sweeney, although she was sure he knew where it was; she was "not sure" as well. Sweeney was already apprehensive enough that his daughter had only been here little over a month and was leaving so soon, Nellie did not want to bring him more distress.

But the dress was nowhere to be found. Nellie, covered in dust and close to tears, threw the dismembered face of a grandfather clock against the wall with a scream of frustration.

"Nellie?" Sweeney rushed upstairs and looked around the door. "Are you all right?"

"I'm trying to find the stupid bloody wedding dress!" she yelled, throwing a half-melted candle to join the clock face across the room.

"What stupid bloody wedding dress?"

"For Johanna! She wants to wear Lucy's and _I can't find it!_"

"All right, calm down." Sweeney placed his hands on her shoulders reassuringly. "I have it in my room."

Nellie's mouth dropped open in horror as she came back to her senses.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry, Mr. T... I didn't mean..."

"It's fine. I'm fine. Lucy would have been happy she wanted to wear it." He pulled her up and led her to his room.

"It's in here somewhere... Aha." Sweeney pulled a waterfall of lace and white silk from a trunk. The dress was beautiful, with a lace-covered bodice that held tiny, cloth-covered buttons. A line of tiny pleats circled the waist and divided it from the huge skirt, all of pristine white silk, with another line of larger pleats bracketing the hem. A ruffled bustle trailed from the back and flowed smoothly into a long train. Nellie held her hands to her mouth.

"Oh, it's beautiful," she sighed. "Do you have the veil?"

Sweeney looked around a bit more, finally withdrawing the longest veil Nellie had ever seen. It gathered on the top around a tiara-like ring of still more white silk, with pale pink silk flowers wound around it like the crown of a fairy. The flowers rose to a slight peak at the front, accentuating the tiara design of the whole thing.

Nellie found herself crying.

"She's going to look so beautiful."

Sweeney looked down and tried not to cry also. He couldn't believe his daughter was leaving so soon.


	35. Chapter 35

**Midnight**

Chapter 35

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today..."

Johanna truly did look beautiful. The church, empty but for Sweeney, Nellie, Anthony, Johanna, and the priest, was bedecked with pale pink roses and fluffy sprays of baby's breath. Johanna's cheeks glowed pinker than the flowers as she held tightly to Anthony's hand.

"Do you, Johanna Lucy Barker..."

Nellie held onto Sweeney's hand as he struggled not to cry. He barely knew Johanna, and she was leaving him... He squeezed Nellie's hand.

"Do you, Anthony John Hope, take this woman..."

She's hardly a woman, Sweeney was screaming inside. But he wasn't going to ruin her happiness for his selfish reasons.

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride." Anthony beamed, grabbing Johanna in a hug and spinning her around as they kissed passionately. Nellie laughed, tears in her eyes. Not because Johanna was leaving, she couldn't be happier about that. It was because she had imagined this scene so many times, only with two very different people.

She tugged uncomfortably at the pink silk contraption Johanna had forced her into. It was too tight around the waist, probably making it all too obvious what she was carrying inside her. But Johanna was not to know about the baby, so Nellie had to give her the old measurements.

Johanna looked over her shoulder happily, then turned away and closed her eyes. Her lace-covered arm came up, the bouquet of roses and baby's breath fell straight into Nellie's arms. She lifted to her face, letting the baby's breath tickle her nose, and felt an irrational urge to cry.

- - -

"I detest being pregnant," she informed Sweeney on the way home. He grunted noncommittally.

"Beautiful wedding. wasn't it, though?" she asked. He shrugged.

"Oh my God, my water broke! I'm giving birth in the middle of the street!" she yelled finally, waving her arms, as a last-ditch attempt to get his attention.

"You're barely two months along," he said boredly. "You're not giving birth."

"But I could be."

"But you're not."

Nellie made a face and allowed Sweeney to brood in peace.


	36. Chapter 36

**Midnight**

Chapter 36

Nellie woke at midnight with the full moon shining too much light into her room. She rolled out of bed, still half-asleep, to close the curtains.

Something moved.

She stopped short. Something moved. _Inside her._

Nellie placed her hands ever-so-gently on her stomach, even though she knew that the tiny movements couldn't be felt from the outside till some months had passed.

But still. _It moved!_

At that moment, she no longer cared if it was Sweeney's or Turpin's or the Devil's - it was hers, hers and it was alive and it was _real._


	37. Chapter 37

**Midnight**

Chapter 37

Nellie soon found herself growing bigger by the day, and although she tried to keep working as long as she could, Sweeney put his foot down at seven months.

"No, Nellie, I'm not budging on this. That baby could come whenever he or she wants at this point, I'm not having you give birth in the bakehouse and getting your water all over the pies."

"Sweeney..." she whined. "What am I supposed to do for the next two months?"

"What is it that you do when you're not working?"

"Sleep. And sometimes eat."

Nellie was quickly finding Sweeney to be a hopeless worrywart. For instance, he was constantly talking about how enormous she was and what that could mean.

"I hope it doesn't come early..." Nellie heaved herself up from where she'd been sitting in his barbering chair, waddled over, and placed her hands firmly on his shoulders.

"Sweeney. You are going to _make_ me go into early labor with all your worrying!"

But even with all their bickering, they never discussed the issue of parentage. It was on Nellie's mind constantly, and surely Sweeney's too. But there seemed to be an unspoken agreement that to speak it would be to make it true.

As Nellie fell asleep that night, the baby slowly mapping out the inside of her womb with his feet (and hands, it seemed, that baby could be everywhere at once) she felt vaguely uneasy. It was the slight nagging feeling where you know you're about to have a nightmare, but you're too tired to stay awake any longer...

It was the rape all over again. He was coming towards her, pinning her too the wall, he was too strong, there was nothing she could do...

But worse, so much worse! This time, when the splitting blow came to her head, she was still conscious, but paralyzed and limp... He was inside her, surrounding her, everywhere, everywhere, and no one could hear her screaming because her screams made no sound, though they tore at her throat like fire...

"Nellie! Nellie! Nellie, please, oh Nellie, wake up, it's all right, you're all right... Nellie!"

She woke up with one last terrible scream and clutched on to the thing closest to her... a man's arm... She yelled again and recoiled, rolling with difficulty across the bed.

"Nellie, pet, be careful. It's me, it's Sweeney."

"Oh!" She lifted her head and latched back onto his arm, sobbing. "It was terrible, Sweeney, please, will you stay with me? He'll come back, keep me safe, please!"

"Sh, shh. I will." He laid down beside her, one arm curled around her waist from the back, his free hand resting on her stomach.

Slowly Nellie's sobs subsided into shuddering whimpers, and then silence. She burrowed her head into Sweeney's shoulder.

"Thank you," she whispered raggedly.

"I was so afraid, I thought you had gone into labor..."

"Sorry."

"No, don't apologize. Go back to sleep."

It was so nice, lying there with her head pillowed on Sweeney's arm, his warmth around her keeping her safe...

Nellie dreamed again of that dreadful day, only she dreamed of the part at midnight...


	38. Chapter 38

**Midnight**

Chapter 38

Nellie woke happily, only aware that Sweeney was lying next to her, covering her in warmth. She had no memory of last night, so she smiled lightly as the baby stretched in her stomach.

"Hey, baby," she whispered.

Sweeney stirred and turned over, pulling her closer in a way that would have been nice except that it flattened her stomach uncomfortably against her legs.

"Easy, dearie," she said, shaking him off. He opened his eyes blearily, looking confused.

"Why I am down here?"

"I've no idea love, but I promise that you were here before I woke up. I didn't abduct you in the middle of the night."

"No, I know..." He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and shook his head as if to clear it of cobwebs.

"Oh, that's right. You woke me up screaming in the middle of the night. Nightmare." Nellie frowned, a tiny wrinkle creasing her forehead.

"Did I? Sorry about that." She yawned and laid back against her pillow, sighing in contentment.

"Why don't you stay here and rest for a bit and I'll make breakfast today?" Sweeney suggested, although he looked a bit scared at the prospect of setting foot in the kitchen.

Nellie sat up immediately.

"Oh no. No, no, no-no-no! You are not babying me again. I am perfectly capable-"

"Then show me. Get out of bed right now and go down to the bakehouse." Nellie paled, thinking of the steep iron stairs. But she wasn't about to be beaten.

"All right then!" Swinging her feet around so they dangled off the side of her bed, Nellie swiveled her torso with difficulty so all parts of her body were facing the same direction. Then she pushed her hands against the mattress until she was supported by her feet and not the bed.

But her ankles, already swollen from what she'd put them through so far, complained loudly. She fell back on the bed with a slight gasp, covering her eyes against Sweeney's inevitable smirk.

Sure enough, when she peeked between her fingers, the smirk was firmly in place. He turned and headed for the kitchen, satisfied.

Nellie rearranged herself comfortably, stuck her tongue out at Sweeney's retreating back, and stroked her stomach.

"He beat us this time, didn't he?" she murmured. "But we'll get him next time." She felt the usual uneasy twinge that twisted just below her ribs whenever she thought too much about the baby. Because, of course, that brought up the issue of parentage, and-

Ooh. That wasn't nervousness.

There it was again, a cramp that was almost pain, but not quite. They were coming faster now, more of them.

"Sweeney..." she called. He didn't hear.

Suddenly, a ripping, vicious pain tore through her like a bolt of lightning. She rolled sideways into fetal position, moaning. The sheets beneath her were wet.

"SWEENEY!" She heard the pounding of Sweeney's footsteps, but it barely registered as anything more than just another heartbeat.

There was another pain that forced on her back, uncontrollable screams still tearing through the room.

"Nellie, Nellie, what am I supposed to do? Oh God, what the _hell_ am I supposed to _do_?"

"Get it OUT!"

"Okay, okay..." He waved his hands helplessly, eyes darting around the room. "Do you know a-a midwife, somebody..." His only answer was another terrible scream.

Nellie's eyes were squinched together so tightly, she thought they might have become welded shut. Her fingernails were forcing blood from her palms and the room suddenly seemed unbearably hot. She was single-minded, one objective had crowded out everything else: it was time for the baby to come and she had to help it.

But even this was slipping away beneath the immense pressure. Even feeling Sweeney slipping off her bloomers didn't give her goosebumps. That baby's a fighter, she thought indistinctly, she's got me in her definitely. Nellie pushed, trying to help her.

"Nellie, Nellie, I don't know what to _do!_"

"And you think I do?" she yelled at him. "You've had more experience than I have with this!"

"We had a midwife then!"

"_So go find one!"_

"Wait, wait-" Nellie pushed again, the effort squeezing another shout from her rough throat.

"Nellie, I see something!" Nellie could feel it, whatever it was he was seeing, feel something large and round sliding forward. The pressure was releasing, slowly but surely. With one last, monumental push-

Sweeney was yelling in triumph, sliding the baby free, severing the cord with her butcher knife. Nellie started to sob, tears mixing with the sheen of sweat smothering her face, holding her arms out wordlessly. He snuggled the baby, purple and wrinkled but wailing heathily, into her chest.

"Ohhh," she sighed, freeing one breast for the baby to suck on. "It's a girl, Sweeney."

Sweeney let out a strangled sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

"Will you clean her up for me?" Nellie asked, offering the baby's tiny body to him. He nodded, taking an extra sheet from the corner and leaving to get water from the pump.

When he had left the room, Nellie allowed the full impact to settle in. So many emotions all at once- joy, apprehension, pride, a strange sadness that she didn't quite know the reason for.

But when he brought it back, wrapped snugly in the sheet and sleeping, there was no doubt who the father was.

She had night-black hair twisted into tight corkscrew curls and long, fernlike lashes. When her eyelids fluttered up, they revealed two eyes the pure melting brown of chocolate. Even just born, her skin was pale as alabaster.

"Oh, love, she's yours! She's yours!" Nellie started crying and laughing again, so overjoyed. She finally had the only thing she'd ever wanted.

"What- what should we name her?" Sweeney seemed slightly shell-shocked, but happy.

Nellie considered, tracing the lines of her beautiful daughter's face.

"Letty," she said at length. "Short for Letitia.

"It means "a father's joy."


	39. Chapter 39

**Midnight**

Chapter 39 (The last and final chapter! Whatever will I do with my life after this?!?!)  


It was midnight once again. If Nellie hadn't been slightly preoccupied, she would have found this interesting, how everything significant in her life seemed to happen at midnight.

But she was slightly preoccupied.

Finally, _finally,_ she and Sweeney were together, in every way. Not out of desperation, not out of need. They were making love in the purest way and giving everything they had to give.

But, as the pink dawn set the distant horizon afire, they could hear Letty crying in the other room. They rose together, their faces smiling and flushed with the perfect beauty of the past night, and held hands as the last midnight passed into day.

_**Well, hope you guys liked it! I finally had someone swear in the last chapter (le gasp!) and I had more smut and violence than I've ever had in a fic before... not sure if that's a good thing... whatever. **_

_**Bye-bye to happy Sweenett ending! Now I must counteract my optimisn with DEPRESSING HARRY POTTERNESS! YAY!**_


End file.
